


between two lungs

by scrapbullet



Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-15
Updated: 2010-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"You don't know how to fire a gun, do ya Bob?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	between two lungs

"You don't know how to fire a gun, do ya Bob?" Archy is cool and unruffled in his nudity, utterly unflappable as his finger flexes surreptitiously on the trigger of a gun. He looks at Bob as one would regard an old friend, an old _lover_ , though they'd only met a scant few hours ago and their lips are still swollen and bruised from kisses with too much teeth and too little tongue.

"No, Arch," Bob says, and his voice is low and deep and sated. His chest is bare and his hips are marked with the evidence of their passion; a rush of purple on masculine sharpness. He sits on the edge of the bed with Archy behind him, a muted softness to every movement and surrounded in the distinct scent of sweat and sex.

Archy snorts. "There's a right way, and there's a wrong way," he instructs, and his chest is hot against Bob's back. Placing the gun in less than capable hands he simply guides, threading Bob's index finger through the trigger and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, quick and chaste. "You aim and fire, yeah, but there's more to it than that. You have to _feel_ it, Bob. Breathe with it, breathe through it. Into it."

"You make it sound so bloody dirty," Bob smirks, but he leans back into Archy's strong weight and assuring grip regardless, long hands wrapped around his own.

Archy cuffs him round the ear for his troubles.

"Just do it."

Bob breathes; in, out. Archy steadies his trembling hand, keeps him rigid, keeps him safe.

He fires.

His arm jerks up; too stiff, too unused to the weight of a gun in his hand and the force of it throws him back against Archy's chest, heart pounding in his ears louder than the shot itself as the back of his head makes vicious contact with the solid bone of a shoulder. Bob grimaces, shaken, rattled and rolled. Archy only laughs.

A bullet thuds clean into the wall, too far left and well below the intended target. Despite this, Bob feels an uncommon sense of accomplishment deep in his gut, something hot and palpable that tastes just like pride.

"There," and Archy sounds smug, pleased as he brushes his lips against Bob's ear, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Bob cuffs him round the ear for his troubles.


End file.
